Better with Two
by Animelover231
Summary: Sherlock the Servine is disgruntled when his trainer decides to capture John the Cottonee. Why do they even need two grass types anyway? I guess you could say it's almost a Pokemon/Sherlock crossover. ;)


Just something I couldn't get out of my head while playing through Black 2. If this made you laugh I have done my job. Fans of BBC Sherlock should particularly enjoy this one. )

The gasp came loud and sudden behind Sherlock, distracting him from the new Pokemon they had encountered. The Servine turned, wondering what could have prompted such a strong reaction from his trainer.

"Sherlock, that's a Cottonee! Be careful, I want to capture this one. Don't hurt him too much."

'_So that's what all the fuss was about? Why does she even want this cotton ball...thing?' _He grumbled but weakened the wild Pokemon with grass moves, impressed in spite of himself by the way the Cottonee could dodge his attacks. He heard his trainer debating behind him which type of Pokeball to use, but it wasn't long before one went flying above his head.

Later, Sherlock sat by the river, washing off his hands. He turned, and was surprised to notice the new team member bouncing towards him.

"Uh hello! Just wanted to say it's nice to officially meet you! You're very strong." The Cottonee beamed up at him. Sherlock said nothing, wondering if he was putting him on.

"Oh, I'm sorry! Where are my manners? My name is John! Well, that's the name our trainer gave me anyway. I quite like it! Didn't have a name before. She's really nice, gave me a big hug and everything!" He paused, both of them glancing over to where their trainer lounged against a nearby tree. She was chatting excitedly on her Xtranceiver, Lestrade the Growlithe sprawled out across her lap. When she noticed them looking at her, she grinned and waved eagerly. "…and I think he's getting along well with everyone already, isn't that great?"

Sherlock huffed, slightly annoyed. Why was she so excited about another grass type? She already had him, and he was the strongest member of the team. Did they really need another? Was he not performing well enough? He thought about his recent battles, wondering how he could have improved his strategy.

John was still there, nervously looking up at him. The Cottonee wondered why he hadn't said anything to him yet. "Umm, I was just talking to that Milotic. Irene, I think her name was? She seems really strong too-"

"If you don't mind." Sherlock cut him off, losing the remainder of his patience. "I really need to practice a new move." He turned, hoping that would end the conversation.

But John didn't go away. "Alright. If you need a sparring partner…or even a friend…I'll be here."

Sherlock sighed. "Don't take this the wrong way, but I'm not even sure why our trainer captured you. We really don't need another grass type on this team. While I appreciate you intentions, I don't have any real friends. With the single exception of our trainer."

Silence followed his declaration. When he glanced over his shoulder, he was startled to see the Cottonee floating away, carried by the wind. He wasn't even aware he could fly like that. John's ears were drooped, and the Servine regretted the rush of guilt at the sight.

Despite Sherlock's secret hope, John remained a permanent member of the team. He got along swimmingly with everyone. Even Mycroft the Scrafty couldn't maintain his icy rigidity in his presence. When it came time for them to cross the sea, Sherlock and John made quite the grass tag team, and the Servine was forced to admit to himself how much he enjoyed battling alongside John.

They even _evolved_ the same day. Sherlock had watched with the rest of the team as their trainer presented John with a sun stone. Everyone cheered and congratulated the new Whimsicott that took his place, who waddled right up to Sherlock. "Look at this! We're almost exactly the same size now!"

"Indeed. John, you must be eager to test out your new body. I would be grateful if you would practice with me. I can feel my own evolution approaching, and confess I am keen for it to happen."

"Of course Sherlock! I'd be happy to help!"

They practiced for hours, taking breaks when needed. John tested out the limits of his new body and abilities, but Sherlock felt himself growing more frustrated as the day wore on.

John was panting. "Sherlock, d'you want to stop for today?"

"Not quite yet John. I can feel how close I am to evolving, but I understand if you are exhausted." He glanced to the side, where the Altaria was watching them. "I can ask Molly to-"

"No, no, I'm alright! I can keep going." To prove his point, he quickly launched an energy ball. Sherlock had no time to react, and dug his feet in as the attack hit.

John gasped at the cloud of dust where Sherlock had been standing. "I'm sorry! I should've given you time….to…" The rest of his sentence was lost as a tall, lean Serperior emerged from the dust.

The Whimsicott waddled over as fast as he could, looking up at the serpent. "W-wow, you evolved Sherlock! Congratulations! So much for being the same height, huh?"

Sherlock smiled down at him, a twinkle in his eye. "So much for that."

John sat at the campfire with his teammates, finishing off an Oran berry. He picked up another from the pile, but was distracted when he noticed the Serperior off to the side, sitting away from their little gathering. He trotted over, holding out his berry.

"Have an Oran berry Sherlock! They're really good." He frowned when he got no response and Sherlock continued to stare into the distance. "What's wrong?"

Sherlock sighed, finally turning to look at him. "I'm afraid I am still having a difficult time adjusting to my new form, John."

"It's only been a week! You need to give it more time. I'm still getting used to it too. It's not as easy for me to catch the wind anymore."

The Serperior swished his tail impatiently. "Yes, well it's different for you. You _gained _both arms and legs, while I…I lost them. It's still quite disconcerting."

John looked down at his stubby arms, feeling guilty. He hadn't thought about it that way. "Alright, that's true…but you're super strong now! And so fast, and beautiful too! Lots of Pokemon would want to be you."

Sherlock sputtered, feeling his cheeks warm. "Pokemon want nothing to do with me. I intimidate others, both Pokemon and people alike. They only gravitate towards the adorable ones like you."

"Have you ever thought that the reason they avoid you is because of how you _act, _rather than how you look?" Sherlock said nothing. "Come back with me to the campfire. Everyone on the team admires and respects you, myself included. It makes our trainer sad to see you alone like this."

"If you insist, John."

The Whimsicott smirked. "So you think I'm adorable, huh?"

One day a few weeks later, they happened upon a large group of wild Cottonee. John spent several long hours enjoying himself by flying around with them, laughing as they made up games. Sherlock watched them with interest, wondering if perhaps John would someday want to leave them to find another of his kind, and maybe even start a family. He knew their trainer would allow it if that was what John wanted.

He wondered why the thought made him so sad.

"What is taking her so long?" Sherlock slammed his long tail against the earth, and John could feel the vibration of it from where he lay on the grass.

"M'sure Molly is flying as fast as she can, Sherlock. It's okay, really." He swallowed, trying unsuccessfully to hide his cough from Sherlock, who was worked up enough as it was. They had sent the Altaria with a note and money to the nearest Pokemon center hours ago, requesting medicine. In the meantime, their trainer was doing her best to make her own remedy from what she could gather in the woods.

"You really don't need to overreact like this. It's just a fever."

Sherlock huffed. "I am not overreacting. We have no idea of the exact nature of this illness."

John rolled his eyes. "Yeah, well worrying isn't going to help anything." He turned to his side, curling up into a small ball as he shivered.

An idea struck Sherlock then, and he wondered why it hadn't occurred to him sooner. He slithered around John's body, wrapping him close and using his tail to prop is head up against him.

"Sherlock? What are you doing?"

"Hush John. Sharing body heat is a much more effective method of staying warm than any blanket could be."

The Whimsicott blinked up at him, blushing. "Ah. Okay. Thanks then." He closed his eyes again. "You really are a comfortable pillow too."

It turned out John's illness was nothing serious, but Sherlock had remained curled up around him every night until he had recovered completely. On the first night Sherlock had stopped this, John had tossed and turned on his patch of grass, unable to get comfortable. Finally he sighed and made his way over to where the Serperior was laying nearby.

Sherlock lifted his head. "Yes? Are you feeling alright?"

"I'm feeling much better, thanks in part to you. But it seems you were almost too good of a nurse."

"Are you having trouble sleeping without me?"

John sighed, not surprised that he had caught on so fast. "Yes, I am. And it's all your fault."

"Come here then."

"W-what?"

"You heard me. It seems there is only one solution to this problem." His voice dropped, and he could hardly believe his next words belonged to him. "It so happens I also find myself missing you sleeping next to me. So, we can each have many more nights of insomnia, or you can shut up and come over here now."

John grinned, sitting down and letting his fluffy head fall against Sherlock. "What will the others think? If we keep doing this, they're going to ask questions."

"Let them."

Thanks for reading, and I hope you enjoyed!


End file.
